


Little Talks

by NightValeian



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Sad Crowley (Good Omens), Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, The Fall (Good Omens), The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 21:59:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightValeian/pseuds/NightValeian
Summary: Crowley wakes in the middle of the night to the feeling of being watched.A brief investigation leads him to the kitchen where God is waiting for him.





	Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

> The working title for this fic was "I Met God In My Kitchen at 3am and She Slapped Me In The Face With Feelings." 
> 
> Felt more like a Fall Out Boy song though.

It was nearing three in the morning when Crowley came out of a dead sleep and was launched immediately into awareness.

Someone was here.

He lifted his head quickly, squinting around in the darkness, half expecting to see someone standing there at the end of the bed, but there was no one. 

Which only meant this  _ presence _ was somewhere else in the house. 

Crowley carefully shifted away from the body laying beside him, untangling their arms and legs before he moved the mountain of blankets off of himself and slipped from the bed. He’d only taken a step towards the door that separated him from the rest of the flat before he was stopped by the sound of a soft groan from the bed. 

“Crowley…?” 

He turned back towards the bed in time to see a pale hand reaching out from the blankets. The fingers stretched out, reaching for him in the darkness, and Crowley returned to the mattress to take the hand within his own and press a gentle kiss to the palm. 

A pair of half open blue eyes stared up at him, confusion clear behind golden lashes. 

“Go back to sleep, angel. Back in a moment.” 

Aziraphale hummed sleepily, eyes closing once more in acceptance and withdrew his hand to settle back into sleep. 

Crowley waited only a moment for the angel to drift back off before he left the bedroom to perform a perimeter check. 

He wouldn’t call himself paranoid, but ever since the apocalypse that wasn’t, ever since two demons attempted to kill him in his flat, ever since Heaven and Hell  _ themselves  _ had tried to wipe him and Aziraphale out of existence, he’d been a little on edge. 

Of course it had been quiet since then, both sides unable to fully grasp how Aziraphale had survived Hellfire and Crowley a bathtub full of Holy Water, but it didn’t stop the demon from wondering when it would all come crashing down. 

Aziraphale had been staying the night more often than not since that day they escaped being extinguished and dined together at the Ritz. Crowley was certain it made the angel feel safer, being so close to him and not being caught unaware, and he certainly didn’t mind in the slightest. 

Convincing Aziraphale to try sleeping in a bed for the first time in eternity was something Crowley considered one of his greatest accomplishments. The angel had always said that sleeping just seemed like a waste of valuable time he could be using to read another book or be doing something more meaningful. 

That’s how he’d felt and Crowley never pushed him again.

But after the Apocalypse, after the Holy Water and the Hellfire, Aziraphale was different. 

He was anxious in public spaces, something that he had never been before, always looking over his shoulder as if he were afraid that someone was sneaking up behind him to drag him back off to Heaven. 

He refused to indulge in taking baths like he had in the past; a usually relaxing activity for the angel had become a stressful one. Crowley had come to visit one afternoon and found Aziraphale hyperventilating in front of a bathtub full of water, nearly sending himself into a frenzy when the demon had made a motion to drain the tub for him. 

He understood it, truly, he did. Crowley couldn’t even look at the fire of a match without being thrown back to the afternoon he’d found Aziraphale’s shop burning and no Aziraphale inside, but he at least managed to keep it hidden.

Keeping it hidden didn’t stop the nightmares, but it was so much better than talking about it out loud.

But it wasn’t until a normal day in the bookshop that Crowley knew something had to change. 

Aziraphale had been restocking books when a nearby customer sneezed, which was hardly anything unusual, it  _ was  _ allergy season after all. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but the sudden loud noise shattering the bookshop’s comfortable silence had caused the angel to startle so violently that the books he’d been holding fell to the floor and his wings had nearly burst forth from their containment as if to protect him from the unseen danger.

Luckily, Crowley had been there to quell the chaos, snapping his fingers to freeze time before coaxing the angel into the backroom so he could pull himself back together. 

_ “I’m fine, I’m fine. Honestly, it just startled me.”  _

_ “You’re certainly  _ **_not_ ** _ fine. You’re falling apart, angel.”  _

_ “I am not! I-I am not…”  _

He never wanted to see Aziraphale like that again, shaking and teary eyed and so...afraid.

A week after the incident, Crowley gently approached the idea of sleeping again. 

_ “Might help, you know? No shame in asking for help every now and then.”  _

_ “You honestly think what I need right now is to put myself in a vulnerable, unaware position? You think  _ **_they_ ** _ wouldn’t take advantage of the fact I was asleep for the-the first time in however many thousand years?” _

_ “Angel, they’re  _ **_not_ ** _ going to--” _

_ “You don’t  _ **_know_ ** _ that--” _

_ “I won’t let them!” _

_ “Crowley, you can’t make promises--”  _

_ “I can and I will. Come by mine tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up.”  _

_ “Crowley…” _

_ “And I  _ **_promise_ ** _ that I will protect you.”  _

It had been a bit of a struggle at first. The demon had offered his bedroom to the angel and had reassured him that he would be right down the hall in the office, but Aziraphale had insisted that sleep wouldn’t help him, even with Crowley in the next room, and instead spent the first hour of his visit simply pacing the room. 

It wasn’t until Crowley offered to stay with him until he fell asleep that Aziraphale seemed to calm some and willingly got under the covers of the outrageously large bed. 

_ “It’s...It’s very comfortable, I must admit.” _

_ “Well, I have a very expensive taste in bedsheets.”  _

_ “How do you even...fall asleep?”  _

_ “Just close your eyes. Relax.”  _

_ “I-I don’t think--” _

_ “I’ll be right here. Don’t you worry.”  _

Aziraphale fell asleep slowly, his eyes fixated on Crowley’s face even as golden lashes started to obscure his view. When they fell completely closed, the demon sat for a moment and simply observed the angel as he slept. 

He hadn’t seen him this at peace in centuries, certainly not since the Apocalypse. It almost made him boil over with rage that the people who were supposed to be looking after Aziraphale to begin with had traumatized him this much. 

He felt a bit of pride at the idea that he’d been the one to help him feel so safe. 

Crowley stood after a bit, turning to make his way out of the room to head back to the living room when a soft noise from the bed had stopped him.

_ “Crowley?” _

_ “I’m here, angel.” _

_ “Please...Stay.”  _

And well, how was he supposed to say no to that? 

The first time Aziraphale the Principality ever slept soundly, it was in the bed of a demon. It was with his head tucked under the demon’s chin, an arm holding him tight around the waist, and occasionally, a gentle kiss to the crown of his head.

He woke the next morning with his head on Crowley’s chest, fingers fisted tight into the silk pajama shirt, and the comforting  _ thump thump  _ of the demon’s heartbeat under his ear. 

After that, Aziraphale had a tendency to sleep whenever he stayed over. He still refused to sleep at his own home, especially if he was on his own, because while the angel would never admit it out loud to Crowley, he was still afraid and even more afraid of the idea that Crowley would get tired of his presence.

But of course, he never did. 

Crowley noticed a change in Aziraphale before Aziraphale himself did. He held himself a bit taller, walked around a bit more confidently, and that smile...oh, that smile, it was back and brighter than ever. 

Crowley even found himself sleeping more peacefully throughout the night with Aziraphale at his side. 

Though he still wasn’t exempt from his share of nightmares.

There had been several times when Aziraphale had shaken him awake in the middle of the night because he’d been shouting in his sleep and held Crowley in his arms until he’d become calm once again.

_ “You know, I once thought it was a tad ridiculous that you were trying to persuade me to sleep.” _

_ “Not anymore?” _

_ “No. Ever since I started sleeping here, I feel more...oh, what’s the word...at ease?”  _

“ _ So what you’re saying is that I was right?” _

_ “Honestly, Crowley.” _

_ “Just a joke. Glad you’re feeling better, angel.”  _

_ “Thank you, Crowley. For looking out for me.”  _

_ “Yeah, yeah.” _

They’d reached a new level of trust with one another; while they had always trusted one another, for some reason, sharing the same bed had helped them reach a new level of said trust and heightened their affection. 

Crowley would brush curls from Aziraphale’s forehead when they awoke in the mornings, Aziraphale would hold onto Crowley and snuggle in just a bit closer. Lips would linger on foreheads, touches would become more frequent. 

And then it all came to a boil.

_ “Aziraphale?” _

_ “Hm?” _

_ “I love you.” _

_ “P-Pardon?” _

_ “I love you. I think I’ve loved you for about...forever, really.”  _

_ “Forever is an awfully long time.” _

_ “Y-You don’t have to say anything else. And of course, you can still stay here, but I’ll just give you some space--” _

_ “Darling?”  _

_ “Y-Yeah?” _

_ “I’ve loved you since you hung the stars.”  _

The angel felt safest with Crowley, enough to sleep beside him in his bed and believe nothing bad could happen to him as long as the demon was there. 

Which was why he was walking the halls in the middle of the night, intent on protecting the slumbering angel in the bedroom. 

Crowley checked the bathroom, the office, the spare bedroom...All clear, no sign of any intrusion.

Front door, sliding door, windows...all closed and locked.

As he approached the only room left unchecked, he felt a forebodingly strong sense of Love, the feeling growing exponentially as he walked closer to the entrance to the kitchen, but with a flick of his wrist, the lights came on to reveal that it too was completely empty. 

He looked around for any sign of Heaven's cronies, but couldn't see or sense anything of them other than the damned commonplace feeling those hypocritical angels falsely carried around with them. So why, oh why, did he still feel like he was being watched? 

“Hello, Crowley.”

Crowley nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning around to face the source of the voice and coming face to face with...God. 

God Herself was standing in his kitchen. 

She hadn't changed much at all since the last time he'd seen Her. Her hair was shorter, curlier, maybe she looked a little older too, but her eyes were the same. They still held the same kindness and warmth they'd always had, but also held the unlimited knowledge of the universe. 

He was half convinced he’d lost his mind. 

“You haven’t lost your mind, Crowley. I’m really here.”

Crowley took a moment to steady himself, placing his hand on the countertop and taking a deep breath. Even though She already knew, he wanted to act like this hadn't shaken him.

“As lovely as it is to see you, please don’t read my mind.” 

“I know you well enough by now to know what you’re thinking without having to read your mind, Crowley.” 

Of course She did.

“What are you doing here?” 

“I thought it was time we had a talk.” 

Fantastic. Something he definitely didn't want to do.

“Mm...Sorry, about an eternity too late for this talk.” 

“I know you are upset–”

“Believe it or not, I’m coping very well, actually.” 

“But I would like for you to finally hear the truth from my lips and not someone else’s.

Maybe being short with God Almighty wasn't the smartest decision he had ever made, but Crowley wasn't too keen on the idea of being kind to the individual who was responsible for him Falling.

"And you thought I should hear it  _ now _ ?"

"If you aren't too busy, yes."

The corner of her lips quirked up just a bit and Crowley realized that she was teasing him, making jokes, just like She used to when he'd been in Heaven. 

"Fine then. Talk away."

Crowley moved around the island in the middle of the kitchen and made his way to the wine rack in the corner, pulling out a bottle of red. 

He would not be able to handle this conversation without alcohol.

"Do you drink? Mind if I do?"

"You know that I don't."

"Fantastic."

Crowley took a swig of wine from the mouth of the bottle, but She still said nothing, watching him calmly from the other side of the island. 

It was so frustrating.  _ Milennia _ had passed, She said  _ nothing _ , never acknowledged the Fall and even now, She came to talk to him willingly, but still had nothing to offer but her knowing eyes and overwhelming silence.

"You know what? I'm going to talk instead."

God nodded towards him in acknowledgement.

"As you wish."

“What happened during the Fall wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to me, the other Angels…It just wasn't fair." He realizes how childish his comment might seem, but in Her presence, he felt like nothing more than a child, begging for an explanation to his eternal punishment.

"Why do you think that?"

Crowley sputtered, choking out a number of sounds that were almost words before actual words actually left his mouth. 

" _ Why _ do I think--No, I  _ know _ ! You were angry at Lucifer and you took it out on anyone who had a bond with him by casting them out of Heaven.  _ That  _ isn't fair."

"Is that why you think you Fell, Crowley? Because you had befriended Lucifer?"

Crowley paused, wine bottle halfway to his mouth as he mulled over the question before he slowly lowered it, suddenly unsure. 

"Isn't it?"

"No."

"Then was it because I asked too many questions? Because you can't blame me for asking questions and looking for answers when you gave us none."

"It was not."

Crowley frowned, brows furrowed and squinting at her curiously, but her expression never changed. She had never lied to him before, so why would She start now? 

"I'm at a loss here. What did I do wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong, Crowley."

"Then  _ why _ did you drop me from Heaven?"

“It was all a part of The Plan."

Crowley rolled his eyes up to Heaven, setting the bottle of wine onto the counter with a lot more force than was probably necessary. 

"You know what? I am so  _ sick _ of hearing that things only happen because of your Plan."

God sighed, closing her eyes. 

"Crowley–"

"No! You're telling me I did absolutely nothing wrong, but you let me Fall anyway because it was all apart of your  _ Plan _ ? Banished me from my home and took Aziraphale from my side?"

"Yes."

“I can’t accept this. I cannot sit here and listen to you say that you knowingly abandoned me for the sake of some  _ Plan _ .” 

“You were never abandoned, my little star.”

Her nickname for him hit him harder than a backhand to the face. 

The day he crafted the stars and hung them amongst the Heavens had been one of his proudest moments; he’d sat for hours naming each and every one with Aziraphale at his side. 

God had been so proud, praised his hard work; after that, he stopped being  _ Raphael _ and became her  _ Little Star _ . 

“Crowley, you were not happy in Heaven. You would never have been truly happy in Heaven, not as Raphael.” 

He laughed, something ugly and fragile, exposing just how vulnerable he was really feeling. 

“And you know that, do you?"

"You had such an intense desire to pursue knowledge, a passion to create, to protect. I knew what Heaven would become and I knew what you would be able to do with the freedoms you would gain if you'd Fallen."

"It should have been  _ my  _ choice."

“And you would have chosen Heaven amongst the stars with Aziraphale.” She paused, tilting her head curiously. “Is that what you would choose now, I wonder? After everything.” 

Crowley blinked.

Despite how hellish Hell was and all of the trouble he’d gone through since the birth of the Universe, the Anti-Christ, the Apocalypse…

He would do it all again to be where he was now. 

Because despite all of the bad things that had happened, he was happy. 

He was free to live a life on Earth with the angel he loved, doing frivolous temptations (and a well-intentioned miracle here and there) to pass the time, officially answering to no one but himself. 

He was his happiest here, but She already knew that.

“Darling?” 

Crowley startled, looking beyond God to the hallway where he’d heard Aziraphale’s voice, before quickly looking back to her, eyes wide. 

“It’s alright. He can’t hear us.”

“But…”

“I’ve caused you great pain during your existence, my little star, and I know my apology will not make up for it completely, but I am truly sorry.” 

“God, I…”

She hushed him gently. 

“I was proud of you when you were known as Raphael and I am proud of you even now as Crowley. You let your heart guide you, your love for humanity takes precedence over all else.” She bent down and pressed her soft lips to his forehead. “I am always watching over you, Crowley. Don’t you ever doubt that.”

Crowley closed his eyes at the touch of her lips, allowing himself to be thrown back to a time when he was simply an Archangel that created the stars and all that truly mattered to him was God’s love. He wanted to tell Her everything, tell Her how sorry he’d been for not believing in Her and how all of those awful things he’d been saying for over 6,000 years just weren’t true, but she merely hummed in amusement. 

“I know, sweet Crowley. Believe me, I already know. 

As she withdrew from him, he opened his eyes to stare up at her. 

“Crowley?” 

God gave Crowley a warm smile, a smile that filled him with so much affection he thought he might explode from Her love, then disappeared from sight just as Aziraphale entered the kitchen.

His blonde hair was a mess, disheveled from sleep, and his eyes were squinting against the harsh light coming from the kitchen ceiling–a dramatic change from the darkness of the bedroom. 

“Crowley, it’s the middle of the night...What are you doing in the kitchen?”

Crowley stared at the Angel in something short of disbelief, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain what had just happened, what he had just experienced, but no words would come. 

The angel, disturbed by his silence, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and became a bit more aware of his surroundings, looking around the room, confusion clear on his face before focusing on Crowley's.

“Darling? Why are you crying?” 

Crying? Was he crying? 

"I-I…"

Aziraphale moved across the short distance between them to reach up and cup Crowley's cheek in his palm, very gently wiping a tear from his face with a look of concern. 

"Crowley, dear, what's happened?"

Crowley swallowed the lump in his throat, bringing a hand up to cover the one Aziraphale had placed on his cheek. 

"I'm alright, angel." 

Aziraphale gave him a look, the one with the wrinkled nose and the raised eyebrow; the one that indicated he didn't believe him.

"Crowley."

The demon sighed heavily, knowing that now Aziraphale was concerned and aware, he would never let it go. He removed the Angel's hand from his face and instead tangled their fingers together. 

"Have you ever thought that maybe the Fall was a part of God's Plan?"

Aziraphale blinked, caught off guard by his question. 

"Is that honestly what you were here pondering at three in the morning? With a feeling of Love around you so strong it's almost overwhelming?"

"Have you?"

Aziraphale sighed, running his free hand through his hair in exasperation. 

"It may have crossed my mind a few times in the past, but I never truly liked to think She would cast us out willingly." 

"What if it really was? A part of Her Plan?"

"Crowley, do we really have to discuss this now–"

Crowley squeezed his hand. Ever since Heaven had tried to have him killed, Aziraphale's faith had been a bit shaken. He didn't like to discuss God, Her Plans, or the other angels much these days. 

"Angel. Please."

"I think I'd be rather upset, knowing that she caused everyone to Fall for the Plan, but...another part of me believes that if She willed it, perhaps it was to lead us to a better ending." 

"You think the Fall had to happen for us to have a better future?"

"Not that I'd ever agree with everything you went through after you Fell, Crowley, it must have been a truly awful experience." Aziraphale said quickly, squeezing his hand. "But...If you never Fell, well...We wouldn't be here now, now would we?" 

Crowley said nothing, mulling over everything Aziraphale said before nodding, satisfied. He didn't think he could tell the angel what had occurred, he wasn't even sure  _ how  _ to tell him for that matter?

"Right then." He said simply, clearing his throat. "Back to bed?"

The angel sputtered in disbelief. 

"B-Back to bed? After all of that? You're not even going to tell me what all this is about?"

"Honestly, Aziraphale, it's three in the morning. What are you even doing out of bed?" He flashed a grin at that, relishing the Angel's endearing annoyance at him smoothly turning the focus away from himself.

"Excuse  _ me _ , I'll have you know that I only came to check on  _ you." _

Crowley pulled on his hand, leading him out of the kitchen and back down the hall to the bedroom they shared, turning out the lights in the kitchen with a quick snap of his fingers. 

Aziraphale huffed and puffed the whole way back to the bedroom, continuing on even as Crowley ushered him back under the soft mountain of blankets. 

"You really won't tell me?" 

Crowley climbed under the covers as well, draping an arm over Aziraphale's waist and laying his head on his shoulder this time around. 

"I will, but can it wait until the morning?"

Aziraphale sighed, bringing an arm up and around Crowley's back so his fingers could start idly playing with his hair.

"Alright, dearest, alright. In the morning then."

"Thanks, angel."

"And don't think a little sleep is going to cause me to forget about this."

Crowley hummed in amusement, eyes slipping closed as the angel played with his hair. Aziraphale knew that it helped calm his nerves, and he obviously knew that he needed it tonight, otherwise their positions would be switched. 

He  _ would _ end up telling Aziraphale in the morning, perhaps over a spot of breakfast,  _ definitely _ when the angel was sitting down because he had no idea how he would possibly take the news of how God Herself had apologized for every wrong She'd ever done him. 

As he lost himself in thought, Aziraphale's hand gradually went still in his hair, easily falling back into sleep amongst the warmth of the blankets and comforting weight of Crowley laying beside him. 

Something in the room shifted and Crowley's eyes snapped open, lifting his head slowly in the direction of the disruption. 

God was standing on Aziraphale's side of the bed, smiling lovingly down at the two of them. When Crowley opened his mouth to say something, she raised a finger to her lips to silence him and he snapped his mouth closed. 

She bent at the waist and very gently brushed her lips across Aziraphale's forehead, pouring her Love into him just as she had with Crowley earlier in the kitchen. Aziraphale's neutral expression shifted in his sleep, a smile spreading across his lips as the feeling washed over him. 

When Crowley looked away from the angel's face, She had already vanished, and after a once around the room, he laid his head back down and closed his eyes.

Crowley slept peacefully, knowing nothing could touch either of them tonight–because for the first time in over 6,000 years, he knew God was watching over them. 

**Author's Note:**

> You ever wake up in a cold sweat and just have to write something? 
> 
> That's what this was.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr!](https://mollymauk-teakwood.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Little Talks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043492) by [Elle_dubs (avril_o)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avril_o/pseuds/Elle_dubs)
  * [[Podfic] Little Talks by NightValeian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043594) by [TheLordOfLaMancha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLordOfLaMancha/pseuds/TheLordOfLaMancha)
  * [[podfic] Little Talks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24045358) by [oakleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakleaf/pseuds/oakleaf)
  * [[Podfic] Little Talks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046831) by [Ceewelsh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceewelsh/pseuds/Ceewelsh)




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